No Man is an Island
by TheEmberGirl
Summary: Through a series of unforeseen events, an infamous pirate and equally renowned knight meet by chance in the worst of situations. Their highest chance of survival is by staying together, despite being unsure whether they should even trust each other.
1. The White Demon

**So my I was checking my brother's English homework and there was an essay prompt of "I couldn't believe my eye(s) when I saw her standing there". The teacher had made every correct the typo and I was like "But what if that person was a pirate?", hence the birth of this Pirate!England plotbunny. The setting is a medieval fantasy AU of sorts, inspired by Tortall from Tamora Pierce's books, with themes from AtLA and various Disney movies.  
**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hetalia**

**Artwork is mine, full image on deviantART (link on profile)**

**Enjoy!**

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**The White Demon**

I couldn't believe my eye when I saw her standing there. Her long ghostly white hair and blood red eyes piercing through the mist.

'Are you a demon?' I gasped.

She did not answer immediately, instead walking towards me until her nose was an inch from mine and our breath mingled in the frigid air.

'Perhaps,' she whispered, in a dangerous, low voice. 'If you believe in such things.'

She turned her back and gave an airy, hissing laugh, her tattered white cloak whirling around to reveal a black cross insignia as she walked away. After a few steps she looked behind her, cocking her head.

'Well,' she demanded. 'I saw your boat dock. You're trapped here until the fog lifts, so unless you want to freeze to death overnight, you'd better follow me.'

I did not intend to freeze, and as much as I was intrigued by her, I could not allow her to believe I would follow her blindly.

'You never made it clear whether you were a demon or not,' I retorted. 'How can I trust you?'

'You're one to speak about trust,' she'd begun her stride into mist again. 'Given your occupation, _pirate_.'

'How would you know I'm a pirate?'

Surely where I had landed was far to secluded for anyone to recognise me.

The white haired woman made a derisive sound.

'If your eye patch didn't give you away, the fact you face is on every wanted poster in the continent would. You're not just any pirate - you're the infamous Captain Kirkland.'

She paused and turned to look me in the eye.

'Whatever are you doing here without your Mahogany Queen?'

I immediately bristled, the sting of losing by beloved ship to that swine Antonio Fernádez-Carriedo, still fresh in my memory. I had not expected to be betrayed for the promise of more gold, but at least the mutineers had the grace to set me adrift rather than let me drown.

'That is not your business, whatever you are.' I muttered as the hulking ruin of a castle appeared in front of us.

She gave another airy laugh and stepped into the ruin.

I followed her into the castle, and faced an empty corridor. Perhaps she was not a demon after all, perhaps she was a ghost. I should have suspected that first, with her white hair and white clothing materialising from mist, what else could she have been.

Continuing into the ruin, I ventured into what must once have been the great hall; a large cavernous space now devoid of furniture. In the far corner a dull shine caught my eye, as I approached it, it became apparent it was a suit of dirtied armour. I moved closer to inspect it and suddenly found a hand upon my shoulder and a sword at my throat.

'Don't touch it,' the same dangerous, low voice from earlier hissed in my ear.

It seemed that she was not a ghost after all, her breath was as warm as her solid vicelike grip.

I chuckled.

'It takes skill to catch a pirate, especially an unarmed one, unawares,'

Her grip tightened for moment before the sword left my throat.

I turned to face her, remembering the talk I'd heard when I'd occasionally gone on land. She stood in a fighting stance, sword at the ready if I made a move towards the armour - _her_ armour. I knew who she was, my mind added up the details; the armour, the white hair, the insignia on her cloak.

'You're the White Demon, Lady Maria of the Northern Fiefdom. You're almost as notorious as I am.

She glared at me with her blood red eyes, not lowering her sword.

'Yes,' she finally replied. 'Now if you would please move away from my armour. I should like to clean it.

'Despite my notoriety, I at least am on the right side of the law.' She added as I obliged her.

'You may stay here for the night,' the White Demon said, still keeping her eyes on me, despite her relaxed pose. 'But if you so much as lay a finger on me or my belongings you _will_ regret it.'

She made a point of testing the blade of her sword.

I raised my hands in surrender and backed a good distance away from her. Satisfied, she picked up a gauntlet and began to polish it with her cloak. The thought of stealing her armour had only briefly crossed my mind, granted, it was fine handiwork and would had raised a hefty price, but i could not have carried it far, and it would have raised suspicion if I tried to sell it in this vicinity. Besides I was unarmed and did not doubt her swordsmanship, the stakes were simply too high.

We sat in near amicable silence as I watched her meticulously clean each piece of her armour. However, a single thought nagged my mind as I say there, "I at least am on the right side of the law", she had said. Finally I had to ask her out of curiosity:

'Why did you bring me here?'

She made no indication of having heard my question.

'Why?' I pressed. 'You know who I am. You could have left me out there and I would have never have found this castle in the mist. You said it yourself; we are on opposite sides of the law.'

I did not expect a reply, given she had ignored me the first time, but she did:

'I am a Knight of God,' she did not lift her eyes from the breastplate she was polishing. 'It is my duty to help those in need.'

She cut off my protest with a derisive look, those red eyes enthralling me once again.

'You spent an hour drifting in that little cove, you know. You had no idea where land was. At first I thought it was an abandoned fishing boat, then I saw you when the boat neared and considered calling out, but you'd finally noticed the shore.' She paused, amusement glinting in those eyes as she recounted my helplessness. 'Don't get me wrong though. Don't push your luck, Kirkland. It is not against my morals to kill you in self defense.'

She grimaced as she turned her attention back to her armour and I noticed the red stain spreading across her white tunic and seeping into her cloak.

'You're injured,' I noted.

The White Demon barked a laugh.

'Surely you've heard of the other lady knight? Elizaveta Hédeváry of Lord Magyar's fiefdom?'

While I had not heard specifically of the knight in question, I did know of Lord Magyars' rivalry with his neighbouring Northern Fiefdom, and heard of the many altercations between their knights.

'I lost the skirmish, in case you were wondering,' she said as she removed her cloak, tore off a length of fabric and slipped her tunic off her right shoulder to reveal the badly wrapped, sodden makeshift bandage beneath. She must have reopened her wound as she threatened me.

'I lost my horse too,' she said just as matter-of-factly, peeling the darkly stained cloth from her wound. 'In case you were wanting to leave, you'll have to do it on foot.'

She then attempted the wrap the new length of cloth over her shoulder.

I stood and walked over to her, up close I could see the silvery scars across her pale skin.

'Allow me,' I said, reaching for the cloth.

Her shoulders stiffened, and I was reminded of the tavern tales told of her wildness.

'I've had to do this for members of my crew when they got injured,' _former crew_ my mind hissed as I attempted to placate her, carefully pulling the cloth from her hands.

She relaxed slightly, but I noticed her frown as I cautiously wrapped her wound.

'Consider it a favour repaid,' I said, before remembering she'd used this same cloth to clean her armour. 'This cloth is soiled, you're risking infection of your wound.'

'Why should you care,' she scoffed. 'You're just repaying a favour. Besides I'll be back at my lord's castle tomorrow.'

'If you say so,' I finished wrapping the bandage, gaze perhaps lingering slightly too long as she slid her tunic back over her narrow shoulder, sitting down beside her as she continued cleaning the last pieces of her armour.

'I am going to sleep now,' she declared when she'd finished. 'And _you_ are going to stay on _that_ side of the room.'

She punctuated her words with a sword gesture. I'd noticed that she favoured her left hand, both as her sword hand and in general, possibly another factor for her moniker of "demon".

She watched me until I had walked far enough in the direction she'd pointed out. Satisfied she placed her sword behind her piled armour which she then laid her head upon before wrapping herself in her cloak.

I looked over at her in fascination, and wondered whether she was doing the same the same to me behind her shuttered eyelids.

We must be legends to each other, other people must have wondered what it would be like to meet the ruthless pirate captain or the violent lady knight who'd unhorsed so many male challengers in person, and here we were, in each other's company.

Presently I too slept upon the cold floor of a ruined great hall.

By the time I awoke the lady knight had already risen and was reading what appeared to be a letter as pale morning light filtered through the windows of the hall. In this light she appeared more human, softer - despite having donned her armour - and less supernatural. Perhaps this could be also be attributed to the small yellow bird which now sat in her hair.

I found my gaze drifting towards her right shoulder, the patch of blood had dried and there was no fresh blood.

She felt me watching and turned.

'I see you're awake, Kirkland,'

'Good morning to you too, Lady Beilschmidt? Lady Maria?'

I tried using the names I'd heard in the taverns.

Her expression twisted.

'Neither of those are my names anymore,' there was a barely detectable waver in her voice.

She must have noticed my confusion, as she flourished the letter she had been reading towards me.

'As of today, the feud between the Northern and Magyar fiefdoms is null. There is to be an alliance sealed by the betrothal of my lord's son to Lord Magyar's daughter, under condition of my exile from the fiefdom.'

I sensed she was feeling the same magnitude of betrayal as I had felt toward my crew's mutiny. I understood her exile stripped from her the title of knight, and the protection afforded from her feudal lord, making her vulnerable to attacks from knights she'd previously defeated.

'Then your name is just Maria now?' I asked. 'I don't know if they put it on the wanted posters, but my name is Arthur.'

'Giselle. My name is Giselle Maria Beilschmidt, I went by my second name as it was more befitting of a Holy Knight, but it means nothing to me now.'

'Giselle is a nice name—'

'What do you want, Kirkland? You have nothing to gain from me. All my gold and food were in my saddlebags. I'm exiled from my fiefdom. Other fiefdoms will be hostile to me for what they perceive as insults. So what do you want?'

'A fighter,' I said simply. 'My crew mutinied, and I need replacements.'

'Mutiny,' she seemed amused again, her eyes an even vivider red in sunlight. 'I could have guessed. Why else would you be without your ship.'

She laughed, not the airy hissing laughter, but a hollow bitter sound.

'You want me to join you?' she asked incredulously.

'Yes—'

'I was a Holy Knight, do you expect me to turn my back to the law so easily? What have I to gain? You have nothing to offer me, you're just as option-less as I am.'

Her derision towards me was clear.

'What have you to lose?' I countered. 'You yourself said you would not be welcome in any fiefdom. Why not make a new life at sea. As for turning your back to the law, well it abandoned you when your lord signed your exile.'

She was not convinced, but I pressed on; if she were to join me, what chance would Fernádez-Carriedo have against two legends.

'I may have lost the Mahogany Queen, but a pirate never keeps all of his gold in one place. I have a chest of gold hidden in a cave somewhere to the west of here. However, I will be unable to reach it myself, unarmed as I am.'

She gave a dry laugh.

'I see, I'm your best chance of survival.'

'Together we have the best chance of survival,' I reaffirmed. 'Providence brought us to the same place, I'm sure we can work together.'

For a few moments our eyes locked in what seemed like a battle of wills. It was quite unnerving, the twin oceans of red as well as the beady black eyes of the messenger bird - now perched on her shoulder - watching me. Finally I must have passed whatever test she had as she spoke.

'I'll think about it,' she said before pushing a tapestry aside and stepping through the corridor behind it. _Secret passages_, I mused that must have been how she'd disappeared the previous evening. I decided not to follow her; it would not do to become lost in the bowels of a decrepit castle.

She reappeared a while later carrying her bundled up cloak and threw another of the objects she had been holding at me. Despite my instincts being faster than most, I barely intercepted it before it flew into my face.

'A water skin?'

'Yes, filled from the castle well,' she smirked. 'How would anyone survive any sort of sea journey without fresh water?'

She drank from her own water skin as if to prove her point, before placing her cloak down. It fell open, causing apples to roll across the floor.

'Breakfast,' she smirked again, enjoying my surprise. 'There's an apple tree beside the well, it's not the first time I've stayed here. I keep supplies here in the case of being thrown off my horse.'

'Supplies, you say,' I mused.

Her eyes hardened, pre-empting my thoughts

'You push your luck too far. If I kept any weapons here, I would not give them to you, pirate.'

'But you are you not joining me?' I asked, heart sinking.

Surely she would not hold her morals so high as to doom us both by setting me adrift again alone.

Her smile was terrible, all but confirming my fears.

'Giselle...' I tried, she cut me off with the withering look in her blood coloured eyes.

'I'll come with you as a mercenary, to be paid with part of your gold. I am not as well known in the western fiefdoms.'

It took all of my self control not to sigh in relief.

'Even in that case,' I pushed. 'Would it not be safer if we were both armed?'

She considered my argument for a moment, then left the hall again. When she returned she was carrying a bow, and a quiver half filled with arrows, which she handed to me.

'Spoils of war from a knight I unhorsed,' she explained, grinning. No doubt she was reminiscing her victory.

'If you cannot shoot, I cannot help you,' she added, a moment later.

I nodded and picked up an apple, having already emptied my water skin.

We ate in silence, before Giselle commanded me to pick more apples while she refilled the skins. I obeyed her gladly, climbing the gnarled tree and taking the opportunity to observe her from a bough.

Her frame was slender, I noted, but she was lithe and undoubtedly lethal when she wielded a sword. She was not one for vanity, it seemed, for her snowy hair was tangled and in some parts matted with dirt. She laughed as her bird flew from her shoulder to avoid the water that sprayed as she pulled the bucket from the well. It circled her several times before settling back onto her shoulder after she'd filled the water skins, causing her to smile and pet it gently.

My lips twitched before I shook my head and turned back to my task, which was just as well, as my lack of activity had not gone unnoticed.

'Kirkland! Stop daydreaming and pick the apples, at this rate we'll be here for another day!'

Once her cloak was filled with apples, we made our way to where I had finally run aground yesterday. Using her sword, Giselle had hacked a branch off the tree to be used as an oar.

She was now looking at me dubiously.

'Do we push it out?' She asked.

I shook my head.

'Not you, put our supplies in the middle then sit in the boat. I'll push it out then jump in.'

She looked doubtful but did as I asked, clambering onto the seat.

'Is my armour too heavy?' She asked as the wooden boat creaked.

I shrugged, handing her the branch.

'We'll have to see,' I said as I pushed the boat away from the shore, before jumping onto the boat myself and using the branch to push the boat further out.

'It's not yet noon,' the former knight commented. 'The sun should still be in the east, we'll paddle away from it once we leave the cove.'

I nodded as we both watched the shore and ruined castle beyond, faded into the distance.

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**Please leave a review, I love getting constructive feedback or just a message plain telling me I've done something right****.**

**I'll update ASAP but no promises on when cos of my hectic schedule.**


	2. Down the Currents of Memory

**AN: Update was totally not delayed and/or unexpected.**

**The geography of the continent/kingdom is vaguely like that of Europe...for whatever reason, and the name of all the fiefs have something to do with that as well.**

**Oh well, enjoy the backstories~**

**DISCLAIMER: Hetalia does net belong to me.**

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**Down the Currents of Memory**

As I used the branch to keep the boat moving away from the sun, Giselle watched me cautiously. I sensed that she was not comfortable; out of her depth at sea.

We sat in silence as we set our course due west. The clear skies that had graced us that morning had faded to grey, and droplets of rain had begun to fall. A gust of wind blew over us and I shivered involuntarily.

'Are you cold?'

I looked up from the water warily, it was the first thing she'd said to me since we'd left the cove. Her cloak was wrapped tightly around her shoulders.

'No,' I lied, it felt as though she was testing me.

She did not reply, and I turned my attention back to the water. Moments later I was surprised by the sound of fabric falling at my feet.

Giselle had thrown the other end of her cloak at me, she was facing the direction we had come from, refusing to look at me. I turned away as well, smile playing upon my lips.

Some time had past before she spoke again, by this time the sun was already high overhead.

'Let me row,'

'Pardon?' I asked, shaken from my reverie.

'I said "let me row". Are you deaf, Kirkland?' she reiterated curtly.

'There's no need,' I started, she cut me off impatiently.

'I've watched you row, I know what to do. Besides, you need to eat; you' be been rowing for hours.'

She was correct, I was beginning to tire. Reluctantly I handed her the makeshift oar and picked up an apple from the pile by our feet.

I finished the apple and threw the core away, where it bobbed by the boat in the waves. Still famished, I ate a few more, before insisting Giselle do the same.

We fell into the pattern of taking turns rowing and eating, it was a harmonious pattern, and I found myself wishing we would not part ways after I'd recovered my gold. We worked well together, something I valued in my crew, and I still had some time to convince her.

Soon the boat was devoid of apples, our water skins were empty and the sun was before us, slowly traversing towards the horizon.

'We should make for land soon,' I commented.

Giselle nodded and handed the branch back to me, indicating I should steer the boat back to shore. I began rowing to the left of the sun, reaching the sandy shore by the time the it reached the horizon.

Giselle wasted no time when we hit the shore, leaping out of the boat and stretching as I pulled it to shore. She then disappeared into the brush and returned a while later carrying an armful of twigs. Not paying me any heed, she proceeded to arrange the twigs on the beach before starting a fire with a flint she pulled from her boot. Her bird, which had been following our boat, returned to her shoulder and dropped a berry in her hand. She smiled and ruffled its feathers.

'Thank you, Gilbird,'

'Gilbird?' I asked, bemused.

She flushed slightly.

'It was the first name I thought of and he hasn't responded to anything else since.'

I chuckled, a response which was cut short by a glare. In this firelight, it was easy to see why some would think of her as a demon.

'Give me your water skin,' she demanded. 'I heard a stream somewhere in the brush.'

'It's almost dark,' I protested.

'I won't get lost,' she snapped. 'Give me your water skin unless you'd rather become dehydrated.'

I tossed it over and she caught it easily, before marching into the brush.

Sometime later she returned, water skins filled and cloak full of berries.

'Gilbird led me to the bush,' she looked at her bird fondly, before throwing my water skin back and spreading her cloak out near where I was sitting by the fire.

As I ate the berries she shed her armour, stretching with catlike grace once it'd been removed. The moon already hung full in the night sky and the warmth of the fire caused me to begin feeling drowsy.

'Kirkland?' I heard my companion ask. 'Are you asleep?'

I opened my eyes, she was propped against her piled armour a little distance away from me.

'No,' I replied, before stretching out my legs and lying down. 'But I soon will be.'

She looked irritated, as if she hadn't expected me to respond. I closed my eye and watched her through my lashes. She looked out to sea, her eyes glistening too brightly, her skin seeming almost translucent in the moonlight. As I watched her, her expression turned pensive, and I wondered if she was thinking of the fiefdom that had exiled her. She closed her eyes and a single tear trickled from her eyelid. I closed my eye as well, so she could be allowed to grieve for her loss privately.

Presently she spoke again:

'Kirkland?' Her voice was softer this time, tinged with sleepiness.

'Yes?' I mumbled, mind already drifting into oblivion.

'Why did you become a pirate? You wouldn't have been an outcast.' She mused.

'Your golden hair and green eyes would have been completely normal, and by the way you speak, I would have taken you for nobility,' she laughed, as if dismissing the thought.

Suddenly I was alert again.

'You're right,' I said slowly.

'What?' She asked, voice growing dangerous.

'You're right,' I repeated. 'I was nobility.'

'_Do not mock me_!' she hissed, and I felt what must have been sand she'd kicked falling over me.

I sat up.

'I'm not. I was the fifth and youngest son of an impoverished noble.'

Her eyes were filled with suspicion.

'The reason my family name isn't more recognised is they're not very important, I'm afraid. Just ancient enough to afford a family name differing from that of their fiefdom. You may have heard of Fief Albion?'

She nodded, but I could tell she was not entirely convinced.

'As for why I became I pirate, my brothers were already married to wealthy ladies, but it was not enough. My father wanted me to marry the heiress of the neighbouring fiefdom - Marianne of Gaul. I refused, I was too young and I disliked the lady. So my father gave me an ultimatum; either I'd marry Marianne, or he'd banish me. I chose the latter and took to the seas that very night upon my father's old warship.'

My lips twisted into a bitter smile.

'You see, Giselle, we're not so different after all. We're both exiles.'

That was not the right thing to say, for Giselle – who'd been listening attentively to my tale – immediately turned away.

'How long?' She asked finally.

I grasped her meaning, knowing her exile was worse as it wasn't voluntary.

'How long have I been exiled for? Well, I think it's been ten years. I've never so much as even sailed near Albion since. I've always been the black sheep of the family, so I don't know what my brothers will be thinking of me now.' I finished with a bitter laugh.

For a while neither of us spoke, I'd evidently given Giselle much to mull over.

'Giselle?' I asked, wondering if she'd fallen asleep.

She shifted further away from me.

'Goodnight, Kirkland. Go to sleep.'

After a while I gave up on waiting her to turn around again.

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I woke to the ashes of the previous night's fire and an empty space beside me. For a moment I was afraid Giselle had abandoned me, a fear that subsided as I noted her still piled armour and the yellow bird that sat upon it. The bird watched me curiously as I approached it.

'Hello Gilbird,' I murmured. 'Where is your owner?'

As if on cue, there was a cracking sound of twigs breaking under booted feet.

'Right here,' Giselle said, emerging from the brush.

Her hair was damp, her cloak and tunic were also damp but noticeably cleaner, her lips were stained a bright red by the berries she must have been eating.

'Good morning,' I smiled at her, receiving a wary look in return.

'I just bathed in the stream, Gilbird will lead you there now.'

She began to don her armour, taking care to avoid contact with her right shoulder.

'Your shoulder,' I phrased this as a question.

'It's fine,' she hissed, her posture becoming defensive.

'Let me check it, it's hard to see behind you and you won't be a particularly good mercenary with an infected arm,'

She paused for a few moments, then relaxed her shoulders.

'Go bathe first,' she commanded, removing the pieces of armour she'd been wearing.

I did as she ordered, following her bird into the brush.

When I returned, feeling fresher than before, the ashes were smouldering embers and shellfish – presumably dug up from the sand – were cooking upon it.

'I begun to think you'd gotten lost,' Giselle commented wryly, then she frowned at me.

'What?' I asked, self consciously wiping at the corners of my mouth for any traces of berry juice that may had dripped there.

'I'd thought you really only had one eye,' she noted bemusedly, a ghost of a smile playing at her lips. 'Why did you wear the eyepatch anyway, if you don't need it?'

My face heated, as I remembered having taken off my eyepatch and placing it the pocket of my coat before I bathed.

'Let's check your shoulder,' I muttered, changing the subject, before slipping the eyepatch back on.

Giselle raised an eyebrow.

'You look better without it,' she said with nonchalance.

Nevertheless she obliged, sitting down upon the sand and slipping her tunic off her shoulder.

I carefully removed the clumsily wrapped bandage and inspected the wound. It had scabbed over into a long thin line slightly edged with pink. There was no inflammation or any other sign of infection. Reassured, I rewrapped the bandage, taking care not to agitate the wound.

'Are you done?' She demanded just as I tucked in the edge of the bandage. 'It's getting cold.'

'Yes,' I replied, pulling her tunic back over her shoulder, causing her to emit an indignant sound and immediately move away from me.

She picked a shellfish off the embers.

'Help yourself,' she said, before cracking open the shell and prising the meat off with her teeth.

'You wanted to know why I wear an eyepatch?' I said conversationally as I too picked up a shellfish.

'Why?' She asked, feigning disinterest.

'Intimidation,' I replied, before cracking a conspiratorial smirk. 'Beside, I keep switching eyes; that's why they never get my wanted posters right.'

She seemed amused, and smiled briefly before turning back to the embers.

Once we'd consumed all the molluscs, refilled our water skins and stripped the berry bush of fruit, we set back onto our westerly course, falling back into the same pattern as we had the previous day. However the silence that had plagued us previously had dissipated somewhat.

'How old are you?' She asked as she relieved me of the oar.

'Twenty six,' I answered on reflex. 'Why?'

She didn't answer, instead staring out into the horizon.

'So you were sixteen when you left your fief,' she mused. 'I was knighted at sixteen.'

'How old are you now?'

'Didn't your mother ever teach you to never ask a woman her age?' She mocked.

I made an apologetic gesture.

'I'm twenty five,' she was staring back at the horizon, lost to nostalgia. 'Six years older than Lord Teuton's heir. His sister was the same age as me, but she was sent off to marry a duke before I became a knight.

'Magyar's daughter is sixteen too,' she added sourly. 'I'd feel sorry for her if she wasn't behind my exile.'

'How'd you become a knight?' I asked. 'It is usually those of noble birth who are offered the chance to take up training.'

She considered my question for a while.

'I suppose it's only fair that I tell you,' she finally said. 'Seeing as you told me of your own past last night.

'Like Lady Héderváry, I am the daughter of a swordmaster; Master Beilschmidt of Castle Teuton. My mother died in childbirth, making of me a darker omen than I already would have been. My father was distant, dedicated to his work. As a child I was always left to wander around the castle grounds on my own, none of the other children would come near me, for I was "cursed by the devil". My haunt became the orchard, where I'd watch the pages training from trees. When I was eleven, one of these pages called me a "mother-killing monster" and I disarmed and beat him with his training sword using the moves I'd observed from the trees. I think that was the first time my father was proud of me – he put me into training as well and I became his best student. Five years later I won Lord Teuton's tournament and was sent to the capital to be knighted by the King.

'I suppose I should have expected this day to come.' she mused.

'I've learnt to have a thick skin, but I did notice things. The courtiers and servants were frightened of me, and the peasants seemed to fear me more than the bandits I protected them from.'

She trailed her hand into the sea, before looking over at me.

'I don't know why you wanted me to join your crew, Kirkland. After all, you thought I was a demon as well. I supposed you did to hire me as a mercenary.' She trailed off, uncomfortable at having divulged so much.

I cleared my throat, having become increasingly angered on her behalf throughout her tale.

'In my defense, I only asked if you were a demon as I was disorientated when you emerged from the mist,' I said. 'I know you are human, and I wanted you to join my crew because I respect your ability to fight.'

Silence descended on us once more, we looked anywhere but at the other, abashed at our honesty.

The pattern changed a little after noon when Giselle noticed something in the water.

'What is it?' I asked, peering at the water.

'Fish,' she replied, just as I saw them. 'I don't know about you, but I'm hungry.'

Without warning she threw her cloak like a net into the water.

'Careful!' I exclaimed as the boat rocked violently. 'You'll overturn the boat.'

She ignored me, dragging her cloak through the water. Finally she pulled it, completely soaked with brine, back onto the boat.

'Dammit, they got away,' she huffed with annoyance.

I laughed, ignoring the glare she sent me.

'Try leaving it still in the water as we move,' I suggested. 'You'll have a better chance at catching something that way.'

She appeared sceptical, then shrugged and lowered her cloak back into the water. I turned my attention back to rowing the boat.

'I caught something!' Giselle suddenly exclaimed.

The excitement in her tone caused me to smile. I turned the boat in the direction of the coast.

'It won't be comfortable with that flopping at our feet,' I warned. 'So hold on to it until we make it to shore.'

She nodded, still looking decided pleased with herself.

When we disembarked at a beach, Giselle dragged her cloaked with its flopping cargo ashore and make short work of the three fish she'd caught with her sword.

'Go find some wood to cook these on,' she said, grinning at the size of her catches. 'I'll clean and gut them while you're gone.'

I did as she asked and headed into the nearby brush, Gilbird flying after me.

I had collected a bundle of twigs and sticks and was about to return to the beach, when the small yellow bird flew towards me, berry in his beak.

'You're a clever bird,' I commented as he swallowed the berry and flew back in the direction he came from, prompting me to follow. A while later, Gilbird settled in a bush of dark berries.

'I should pick some for later,' I muttered to myself, setting the bundle on the ground.

I removed my jacket and filled it with berries, before picking the sticks back up and following my feathered guide back to the beach.

I had not thought one would be able to scale and gut a fish with a sword, but the cleaned fish, and Giselle washing her sword in the sea proved me wrong. She was impressed when she saw the berries.

'Gilbird must like you,' she said, looking musingly at her bird, before lighting the wood with her flint.

'I didn't find any fresh water,' I admitted as we turned the stick we'd skewered the fish on over the flames.

She shrugged, causing sparks to fly from the fire.

'We can just keep close to the coastline for the next while, sooner or later we'll run into a river.'

'That's true,' I said in agreement, and turned back to the fish.

I had held my end of the stick too close to the fire, and the fish closest to me was completely charred. Giselle noticed and gave an amused laugh.

'You can have the middle fish,' she said, pulling the stick away from the fire.

We ate, then boarded the small boat again, keeping along the coastline as Giselle had suggested. Soon enough we arrived at the wide mouth of a river.

'This must be Fief Dansk,' she mused. 'Where the Great River meets the Northern Sea.'

We disembarked and Giselle tasked me with filling the water skins, before turning towards the brush some distance away from the river.

'Where are you going?' I asked.

'I need to relieve myself,' she replied, a faint flush appearing across her cheeks.

I nodded and walked further upriver to fill the skins with fresh water, before returning to the boat. Giselle had not yet returned, so I picked up the bow and tested its string, cursing at having not paid attention during the archery lessons of my youth. Should I be attacked at this moment, I had only a weapon I could barely use.

A flash of white caught the corner of my eye, drawing me from my musings, I looked up, smile on my lips and witty remark readied upon my tongue that faded as I noticed the second figure.

Another knight, wearing a red plumed helmet covering their face, moved behind Giselle, sword poised to swing at her neck.

* * *

**Notes:**

**Will probably update on a monthly schedule.**


	3. The Journey into Trust

**AN: I totally did not forget to update _Feliciano and Louise_, totally.**

**Sorry for the slight cliffhanger at the end of the last chapter (okay I'm not really sorry). As the title suggests, these two are going to have to trust each other more.**

* * *

**The Journey into Trust**

I barely registered nocking an arrow and letting it fly, I cursed myself again, fearing it would hit the wrong target. The arrow flew wide, missing the hostile knight by a metre. Surprised, the knight paused for a moment, allowing Giselle to whirl around and parry the blow.

'You,' she growled, recognising the armour. 'I could have known you to be one without honour. Attacking from behind, you are the same cowardly chauvinistic man I unhorsed years ago.'

The knight swung at her again.

'And you are the same arrogant woman who does not know her place, _White Demon_,' he spat. 'You are disgraced in your fiefdom, a knight no more. The sword you carry is your death sentence.'

'So you decided to play the executioner,' Giselle snapped, dodging the blow and striking swiftly enough for the knight to stumble.

Before he could recover, Giselle flew at him again with a rough grace. She fought impressively, raining blow after blow upon her enemy that he could barely block. Finally with a twist her wrist, she sent his sword flying through the air, before kicking him to his knees and pulling his helmet from his head.

The knight's sweat covered face paled as Giselle raised her sword. Seeing his expression she smiled mockingly and laughed.

'It is beneath me to kill a coward such as yourself,' she spoke as she slammed the hilt of her sword into his temple.

She sheathed her sword as the knight crumpled like a punctured bag of sand, and made her way towards me.

Wordlessly she boarded the boat, seemingly shaken at her close brush with death, she did not speak until we were well out at sea.

'You saved me,' her tone was blank and an unreadable emotion flickered in the depths of her blood like eyes.

She blinked and looked away from me and stared into the horizon. I didn't prompt her to say anything after that, knowing she was still masking her shock.

Silence reigned as we landed for the night, wordlessly gathering wood and searching for anything edible.

Finally the silence was broken as we sat by the fire, basking in its warmth.

'Kirkland?'

'Yes?' I barely managed to suppress the surprise in my voice.

Giselle took a deep breath, staring into the fire, before turning to look me in the eye.

'I didn't thank you earlier,' she looked away. 'For saving my life. So...' she trailed off.

'It's okay, 'I said just as sheepishly.

I understood how she felt, we were similar in our pride and she had just swallowed hers like a bitter pill.

Giselle stretched out her legs and reached into her boots, retrieving the ornately sheathed knives and dagger hidden there. It dawned on me that this is how she must have cleaned the fish.

'Here,' she muttered, thrusting the weapons into my hands. 'You're no good with a bow anyway.'

In the firelight her flush was almost undetectable. She lay down facing away from me.

'I'm sleeping now,' she announced. 'Goodnight.'

I unsheathed one of the knives and toyed with it, watching the firelight glimmer on the blade. I was now better prepared for any danger I might face.

'Giselle?' I questioned as I sheathed the knife.

She did not respond.

I smiled to myself, knowing the unspoken message she'd conveyed by giving me weapons she knew I could wield properly.

* * *

I awoke to the scent of roasting meat, opening my eyes to see Giselle holding a skewered goose over the fire.

'How...' I caught myself saying, still befuddled by sleep.

Giselle looked up, smirking slightly.

'A flock flew over earlier, I shot one down then borrowed one of the knives to clean it. Now hold the other end of this stick, geese are heavy.'

I did as she asked, noting there were grey feathers caught in her white hair. I idly wondered if I should reach over and brush them out, and whether I'd find myself facing her sword if I did.

'Why are you looking at _me_?' Giselle demanded. 'Pay attention to the fire, you're eating any the parts you burn.'

A quick glance down revealed that one of the wings was beginning to blacken.

'I'm not used to cooking with fire,' I said defensively. 'I've been living off dried rations for years.'

Giselle wrinkled her nose, then her expression changed.

'Do you ever miss the banquets at your castle?' her tone was light, but her eyes serious.

I was silent for a moment, training my gaze upon the fire.

'The food? Yes. But the banquets themselves? Too many people watching you eat, judging your manners. The constant need to test for poison...No, I can't say I miss them.'

I looked up at Giselle.

'Of course, it'd be easier for you, you wouldn't have been sitting at the main table.'

Her laughter was bitter.

'I wouldn't be sitting at any table at all. My presence spooked people, so I would stay in my chambers and a maid would bring my meals before scuttling away. Eventually I ended up staying away from the castle most of the time; challenging roaming knights, and hunting for myself.'

She prodded at the cooking meat, then pulled it away from the flames.

'It's ready. Care to cut it up?'

I took the goose from her, selected one of the knives and made an incision through the middle, cutting it into two halves. I handed a half over to Giselle, before tearing a wing off and taking a bite. The skin of the goose was fire crisped, with a layer of fat between it and the gamey meat, despite it lacking the herb filled stuffing of the castle kitchens, it reminded me of the banquets of my past.

I covertly stole a glance at my companion. She did not eat like a court lady, in fact her mannerisms reminded me of my former crew. Again I hoped she would reconsider my offer for her to join me at sea.

She noticed me observing her and sent me a quizzical look. Heat filled my face and I quickly grasped for an excuse.

'You didn't reopen your shoulder wound during the fight yesterday?'

She frowned.

'No, I didn't. It's strange how you're always more concerned about my shoulder than I am.'

I cursed inwardly at having drawn more attention to myself rather than directing it away.

'Then again,' she continued. 'I shouldn't be surprised that you'd be concerned about the state of your mercenary.'

She looked away, picking at a bone on the goose.

'I—,' I bit back my impulsive response.

Eyes still focused on the bone she was twirling with her slender fingers, Giselle spoke again:

'I suppose you can inspect it again later, if it gives you peace of mind.'

'It's okay, as long as you say it's fine, but if it _does_ start troubling you don't keep it to yourself.'

Giselle's red eyes snapped away from the bone, staring at me incredulously. I felt my ears burning and struggled with the urge to look away.

'Yes _mother_,' she mocked, pursing her pale lips to fight back the smirk that threatened to play there. I finally tore my gaze away.

'Funny, that's what my crew used to say,' I muttered to the sand.

A short laugh rang out across from and I stole another glance at Giselle. Her mirthful expression turned to curiosity as she slid her gaze towards me. I immediately stuffed a piece of goose into my mouth, hoping she hadn't noticed me looking.

If she did she didn't comment, but I dared not take another glance at her as we continued eating.

Giselle brought up a pressing issue as we prepared to begin our journey again:

'Our water skins are empty, and I do not know much of the geography of the continent past the Great River so I can't say that we can readily find streams.'

'We can survive a few days without water,' I informed her. 'I've done it before.'

'Really?' She clearly was dubious.

'Yes, when I first began my life at sea,' I noticed the curiosity in her astoundingly coloured eyes and continued. 'My aim was to leave Fief Albion as far behind as possible. I had no inkling about rationing the water in the casks aboard the ship and drank it recklessly. Thankfully the fourth day without water was rainy, so I removed the lids from all the casks and allowed them to fill with water. After that, I was always careful about rationing water.'

'I always travelled with at least two water skins in my saddlebags,' Giselle mused, beginning to pull the boat towards the sea.

'And you were never far off from a well,' I added, pushing the boat further out after she clambered in, rocking the boat as usual with the weight of her armour.

'That is true,' she conceded, passing the oar to me.

'You're quite a legend in the taverns, if you weren't aware,' I mentioned a while later.

'I am aware of that,' she answered drily.

'Is it true that you once unhorsed Lord Dansk's godson Matthias Køhler?'

'I did indeed,' there was a hint of pride in her tone. 'Before you ask, I also unhorsed Toris Laurinatis of Polska-Lietvua and his feudal lord; the Master of Horses himself – Lord Łukasiewicz.'

My being impressed by her feats must have shown, for she grinned at me.

'My turn,' her grin faded and her expression became inscrutable. 'Is it true you keelhaul the captains of the ships you defeated until they drown?'

I groaned inwardly, it seemed that the rumours of my ruthlessness had been exaggerated disproportionately. There was a time when I would have grinned and left all rumours open to interpretation, but this was not the time. Giselle was watching me carefully, judging me with her gaze, this was the time to be frank.

'No,' I said, taking in her surprise. 'I never have and never will do that, not even when I catch up with the one who took my ship. It's one thing to defeat someone in combat, but another humiliate and kill them. Besides there's no point killing the captains anyways, that scares other ships off from the sea and would mean less gold for me to plunder.'

I flashed her a wry smile.

'I believe that certain rumour started when a merchant captain failed to return to his ship due to him joining my crew.'

'Most of the rumours I hear about myself are true,' she mused, eyes on the horizon. 'Apart from the ones about me scaring children or even servants to death.'

'Likewise, most rumours you've heard about me are probably false. Apart from the ones about me being unable to hold my liquor, which are unfortunately true.'

The incredulous expression she wore caused me to smile.

'You are quite an enigma,' she shook her head. 'The more you tell me, the more questions I have.'

It would not do to inform her that the more she told me about herself, the less seemingly otherworldly and more human she became. Instead I smiled again and replied:

'It will be some time before we reach the cave, why not use that time to ask questions,' my smile widened. 'I promise to answer any you ask as truthfully as I can.'

Giselle raised an eyebrow.

'How much is a pirate's promise worth?'

'That's something you'll have to find out for yourself.' I responded to her banter.

She remained silent for a while, then curiosity got the better of her.

'I get the impression you left your fief alone,' she queried. 'How did first gain a crew?'

'I rescued them,'

I waited for her disbelief to show, instead she just waited for me to elaborate.

'You aren't doubting me then?'

'It's not the strangest thing I've learnt today. I'll wait for you to tell me more before I make any further judgements.'

Her expression was almost cool, and I kept my smile to myself.

'A merchant ship had become just about destroyed in a storm,' I continued my tale. 'It'd been drifting mast less for weeks and the food and water supplies had run out. I rescued those on board, delivered them to the nearest harbour. Quite a few of them decided to stay with me, they were seasoned sailors or young adventurers, all wanting to be back at sea as quickly as possible. As for the rest of the crew, well, once you relieve a few ships of their gold, your name begins to spread, and sooner or later all sorts of runaways will seek you out and join you.'

'Criminals?' Giselle guessed correctly.

I nodded.

'Mostly thieves, the occasional counterfeiter and swindler. I told the worst they weren't welcome.

'I _do_ have some standards,' I finished with a mutter.

'That seems quite natural,' Giselle commented shrewdly. 'Seeing as you were nobility.'

She gestured for me to pass the oar over, picking at a piece of bark when she received it.

'I suppose I should allow you to ask questions of me too,' she considered as she rowed. 'But I feel as though there's nothing I can tell you that you haven't heard in a tavern already.'

'While it is true that the taverns tells of your feats, they do not tell much else about you,'

She laughed sardonically.

'There isn't much to tell, my private life is dull, for who would associate with a supposed demon?' she slid a half incredulous glance at me at this point. 'The closest semblance of friendship I had was with Lady Elizaveta, and we fought viciously each time we met.'

I fell silent, not knowing how to respond. For a while we sat listening to the waves slapping against the sides of the boat.

'How long until we reach our destination?' Giselle asked suddenly.

'At least another day, this craft is small and does not have sails.'

'This cave...' she trailed off, eyes narrowing.

'Is located on the shore of Fief Gaul,' I finished for her, acknowledging my pettiness with a smirk.

'I should have figured,' she commented with veiled amusement. 'Seeing as you refuse to return to Fief Albion.'

'It seemed a great idea at the time, we'd sailed from our usual hunting grounds near the Bay of Spices further north past Fief Gaul to avoid a storm. I noticed the cave and disembarked at the dead of night to hide my personal chests of gold.'

She nodded, then asked another question:

'Is the Bay of Spices as warm as legend tells it?'

'It is,' I confirmed. 'But also treacherous, blue skies can change to violent storms within a blink of an eye. On clear days I could even see the glittering gold capped towers of the Royal Palace in the capital from my ship.'

A thought occurred to me.

'You've visited the capital yourself, shouldn't you have known what the Bay of Spices was like?'

She shook her head.

'I arrived on horse at Midwinter, and was under orders from Lord Teuton to return as soon as the knighting ceremony was over, with the armour and sword received from the King as proof I'd undergone the ceremony. The three days I spent in the capital were either at the armoury – where the blacksmith took my measurements, or at the Palace Chapel – where I was to prepare spiritually before taking the Vows of Knighthood. I didn't see the rest of the city at all, you could probably tell me about the sights I missed.'

'I'm afraid I cannot, I've never set foot in the city myself,' I confessed.

'But Fief Albion is one of the oldest in the kingdom, surely your family would have been invited to the capital at least once,'

'We were, but I fell ill and was unable to travel, so my family left for the capital without me.'

'That is unfortunate,'

We fell back into silence, taking turns rowing as usual. Sometime after noon, clouds began to darken the sky and soon after that, icy drops of rain fell heavily.

'We'll have to make for land,' I gestured at water beginning to fill the boat.

Giselle nodded, passing me the oar before wiping her sodden hair away from her eyes.

'The winds are picking up too,' she said. 'This rain will turn into a storm.'

The waves grew increasingly unsteady as I steered the boat against them to reach the shore, by the time the boat hit shallow waters I was thoroughly exhausted. This did not escape Giselle's notice.

'Here,' she removed the oar from my hands, which were slick with rain and sweat. 'Let me.'

Gracelessly she manoeuvred the boat onto the beach.

'You could work on that,' I commented, grinning, as we disembarked. In response she flicked her waterlogged cloak – which she'd been wringing out – at me, delivering a spray of water into my face. She then marched off towards the brush.

'There's no point,' I called out. 'You won't be able to light a fire in this weather.'

She didn't reply but sat down in the sand, wrapping her cloak around herself over her armour. I followed suit, pulling my coat tighter and attempting not to shiver in the icy wind.

'It's cold,' Giselle said suddenly, more a comment than observation.

'Nothing I can't handle,' I replied shrugging.

She got up and began piling sand.

'We could make a barrier again the elements,'

'The rain would probably wash it away,' I argued, but helped her pile the sand all the same.

As I predicted the heavy rain through the sand as soon as we built it. Giselle made a noise of frustration and discarded her cloak before removing her armour.

'What are you doing?' I asked. 'That was keeping you dry.'

Expression unreadable, she piled the pieces of her armour over the crumbling wall of sand.

'Well now it'll keep _both_ of us dry,' she retorted. 'We could sit closer together to share body heat.' She added moments later.

'You could have kept yourself warm by keeping the armour on...'

'I owe you!' She snapped, retrieving her cloak and looking away from me.

I fell silent, and moved closer to her. Still facing away, she draped the cloak over the both of us.

Throughout the night, as the storm raged on, we moved even closer for the need of warmth, eventually falling asleep with our arms around each other.

* * *

**Notes: The Bay of Spices would be this world's equivalent of the Mediterranean Sea. Rome would be the king and Ancient Greece the queen.**

**Again, reviews are always appreciated.**


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